Crimson Angel
by Rochelle Adams
Summary: Erik gets a rude interruption one evening in the form of a strange girl. He has secrets to keep from her but little does he know that she has dark secrets of her own. Will both of their pasts finally catch up with them?
1. The Girl Drenched in Blood

**Ohmigosh. I just keep coming up with these really cool ideas. Just shoot me.**

Her heart pounded, blood rushing from her face as she tore through the woods, blood covering her arms, face, and clothing, tears streaking down her cheeks as she stopped to wipe her hands of the crimson liquid dripping off her hands and face. She heard footsteps pounding against the ground. As the footsteps got nearer she decided that this was a good time to run. As she broke into a sprint her long fiery red hair got into her face, momentarily blocking her vision. Her long skirt caught onto a bush, tearing it.

"Great," she muttered. She ripped off the hanging scrap of blood soaked material and stuffed it in her belt; no evidence of her being here could be left behind.

The footsteps were closer, she cursed under her breath. The police was one thing she didn't need on her plate, but what else could she expect?

"Hey, you, stop!" someone yelled at her, when she broke into a run again. Her running away was obviously not the answer the chief of police was looking for. A shot rang out and a searing hot pain pierced her left shoulder. She let out a cry, collapsing onto ground, her skin torn from the thorn covered bush she hit on her way down.

Even more blood streamed down her arms. Pain seared through every corner of her body. She felt like just giving up, but oh no. She was not going down without a fight. She rose up, dragging herself along the ground.

A shadow appeared in front of her, the shadow of the chief of police. She whipped around and saw a man in a police officer's uniform, pistol at hand.

"There you are. This is the end of the line for you. You are under arrest," he growled pointing his gun at her face.

"Oh, but it isn't the end for me. This is the end of the chase for you!" she said breathlessly, barely able to speak from the terrible pain ripping through her shoulder.

He raised one of his eyebrows, wondering what she meant by that.

She made herself clear by suddenly picking up a handful of leaves and dirt and tossing it into his face. He screamed in pain as the dirt made way into his eyes and he dropped the gun. This gave her just enough time to gather up all her remaining strength. She picked herself up and ran, ran with all her might.

She broke through the woods and entered the city of Paris.

By the time she arrived in the streets it was well past two am. She heard the patter of running footsteps behind her, and she took off down a nearby alley. She saw the captain, from behind the dumpster where she was hiding. He stopped, looked around, then an idea came into her mind. Stealthily she picked up a rock from the ground and when his back was turned tossed it in the direction of the alley across the street. He whipped his head over in the direction of the noise and ran down that way.

She saw this was the opportunity she needed and she took off down the street, not knowing where she was going, having never even been to France. A grand building suddenly came into sight and as she got closer she could see that it read "Opera Populaire".

She dashed toward the abandoned building, as fast as she could in her weakened state. She threw open the doors and rushed inside, the solid thunk of them closing behind her being the only sound that resonated through the empty space.

The girl noticed that the whole place seemed very old and looked as if it had been the victim of a fire. Since she, as you already know, had never been to France, she had no idea how this happened. She wandered around the place, catching her breath after being chased for quite a distance.

She meandered onto the stage area, wondering what the place would've been like when it was in full glory, the audience packed into every seat.

As she walked over the stage, contemplating all this, suddenly the rotten floorboards caved in underneath her. She cried out with an ear-shattering scream as she felt herself plummet into the darkness below.

Suddenly, her fall was broken by the hard ground. Upon landing on her feet, she felt her right leg crumble, accompanied by a loud snap. A piercing pain tore through her leg, making her forget about the bullet wound in her shoulder. She started to feel herself slip into unconsciousness, but before she blacked out she faintly saw a large shadow coming toward her. Then, darkness overtook her.


	2. Erik's Discovery

**What do you ppl think so far? This chappie is a little…gruesome, v. descriptive.**

Erik approached the small figure of a woman lying in the middle of his living room, her small frame covered in blood. He was unable to tell if she was pretty since her face was marred by welts, bruises and more blood. Although it was completely inappropriate for him, he lifted up her skirt and inspected her leg, which had appeared broken.

He was right. The bone jutted out fiercely from the torn skin, blood gushing from the wound. Erik grimaced at the sight, his stomach churning.

"My God, what has happened to you?" Erik muttered, picking up her body gingerly and carrying her to his room, figuring that there was no other place to put her.

He noticed that a great deal of blood had surged from a large gouge in her left shoulder. He decided that he should probably inspect the wound, but he wasn't sure how to go about it without making himself, and probably the woman, feel very uncomfortable.

Finally he decided that her health was more important than her dignity so, with great care, and his face turning a lovely shade of scarlet, he gingerly pulled off the sleeve. He suddenly realized that the wound was deeper and located farther towards the left side of her chest, causing him to blush all the more deeply, knowing that he had to take off more of her blouse to be able to treat it.

Though it was scandalously unsuitable for a gentleman (even though Erik wasn't exactly known for being such a gentleman…after all, he took women to his underground lair and hung stagehands…not really gentleman material), Erik ended up having to bare all of her shoulder.

Erik also realized, to top it all off, that he was probably going to have to remove the young woman's corset, since it was squeezing her so much, causing more blood to spurt out of the wound and not allowing her much room to breathe. So with even more care he completely removed the blouse. Unfortunately him viewing her in her corset did not leave much for the imagination, but luckily she had a chemise on underneath the tight, constricting garment.

He become conscious of the fact that the gash was made by a small ball of metal embedded in her shoulder. She had been shot!

Knowing that he had to surgically remove the projectile, he went in search of a knife. This caused a bit of a problem since Erik's normal weapon of choice was a Punjab Lasso, so he was kind of short on knives. Finally he found one which he had confiscated from the back pocket of one of those pesky stage hands that he had hanged a while back.

He rushed back to the girl, blushing again at her bare shoulders, and tried to figure out how he was going to do this. He smoothly inserted the tip of the knife into the wound, noticing that the girl winced a bit. He dug deeper to find the pellet. Finally he located it and began to pry it out.

Suddenly the girl came to, probably on account of the worsening of the aggravating throb in her arm. She gasped and tried to sit up, only to have a man, who was very red in the face (out of embarrassment, no doubt) grab her gently by the shoulders and push her back down. She stared up at him with wide hazel eyes. Erik felt her gradually weaken once again, and soon she went limp in his arms.

He finished pulling out the bullet and, not knowing what else to do with it, flicked it into the lake, satisfied when he heard the plop as it landed in the water.

Erik noticed a new development. Apparently his playing doctor wasn't quite over yet. Her left shoulder, the one that had had the bullet in it, was also out of place, probably knocked that way as a result of the impact of being shot.

His face contorted (more than it already was at this girl's broken body and the fact that he was already disfigured, making his face rather contorted to begin with) at the thought of having to remedy such a horrible predicament.

"She'd better be pretty after all this," he grumbled to himself. Just his luck he'd fix her all up and she'd be ugly.

He grasped her delicate arm and with a heavy groan he yanked on it with all his might, the reverberation being a loud pop, accompanied by a crunch and eventually, as he had expected, a scream.

What he hadn't expected or prepared for was a whack in the nose from the arm he'd just set. The girl, suddenly brought from unconsciousness, had punched him roughly in the nose, as a result of a reflex and immediate pain. This time it was Erik's nose that made a painful cracking sound. With a look of supreme surprise etched on the half of his face that was visible, he clutched his nose and glared darkly at the girl.

"What, might I ask, was that for?" he demanded, noticing that his nose was now bleeding. This was almost too much blood to handle.

The girl, obviously having a high pain tolerance, sat up, cringing once she noticed the pulsing hurt that surged through the left side of her chest and all the way down her left arm.

She gingerly touched the spot on her shoulder and suddenly she realized something was a might off. She started to pat herself down and her eyes widened, a look of shock engraved on her face when she realized that not only her blouse, but her corset was gone.

"What exactly were you trying to do?" she inquired hotly.

Erik got a bit angered by this comment. "What I was trying to do was save your life!" he exclaimed in reply.

"Likely story!" The girl returned his glower with an even fiercer look.

Erik wasn't quite sure what to do with this young woman who had interrupted his quiet evening (and he doesn't have very many of those) by dropping (literally) into his underground lair. She was much blunter, and quite frankly more forward, than other girl he had met. Christine had never been like this. He was used to girls swooning at him, not punching him.

"Well," she said after the rather awkward silence where this strange man had just stared at her. "I hate to leave, but…"

She promptly swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand up, only to suddenly comprehend that fact that her legs would not support her. A look of shock passed over her face before she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

"Your leg is broken," said Erik, looking down at her crumbled little body on his bedroom floor. "We'll have to set that."

**Lol. This is funny R&R**


	3. Setting Things Right

**Note: I want to give credit to my muse, Marie Carlson, also the co-author of Lord of the Mood Rings. The plot is, of course, mine, but she helped me a little with the wording and gruesome descriptiveness.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own POTO, I do not own Erik, but I do however own this plot and the unnamed female character.**

Erik tried to pick the mysterious woman up and place her back on the bed, but she swatted him away.

"I can do it myself!" she grumbled testily. She tried to claw her way onto the bed, but with no avail.

Finally Erik, who wasn't known for his patience, simply swooped her up and set her down with surprising gentleness on the soft bed. She glared up at him, once again.

"Let me see your leg," he demanded, tiring of her antics.

"What leg?" she said innocently, concealing it underneath her skirt (yes, she still had her skirt).

"The one attached to your body!" he said with growing anger.

"What body?" she said again, this time just to get on his nerves.

Erik started to fume, but calmed himself and tried to figure out how he was going to do this without her consent.

He reached down to lift up her skirt enough to fix her leg, but she tried to smack him. This move was anticipated by him, however, and he quickly caught her hand.

"Were you intending to hit me? Because you've already broken my nose, I don't think you can do any more damage." He was a little amused by her fire, vexing thought it was.

"I can crack your skull open," she countered menacingly.

Erik scoffed at this remark. "I'd like to see you try."

This made the girl become very indignant. "Well I'll have you know that I…"

Erik simply clapped his large hand over her mouth. He thought this an easy solution to this girl's quick mouth. Of course he forgot that there were teeth in that mouth- she promptly bit him…hard.

"You little viper!" he shouted, sucking on his hand gingerly.

"Suck it up! I have a broken leg that still needs to be set and you're whining about your hand!" She rolled her eyes.

"Well, you bit me!" he said. "I might never be able to set that pesky leg of yours because of this." He realized he was being a bit dramatic, but she bit his hand! He played his organ with his hand.

"Knowing you, I'll set your leg and then you'll kick me!" He grumbled more things under his breath, having been put in a very bad mood by this unusual, not to mention pain-inflicting girl.

The girl sighed. "Fine, but if you set my leg you have to let me set your nose." She suddenly got a very evil look in her eye.

Erik took a step backward, still not sure what to do with the situation and this girl who was obviously the spawn of Satan.

But, since her leg really did need to be set and its not like he could take her to a doctor, he slowly moved forward, cautious of her somewhat quick (or should we say 'spastic'?) movements. It finally seemed as if she was going to let him work with her so he sat down at the foot of the bed.

He removed one of his gloves and handed it to her, motioning for her to put it in her mouth so she didn't bite her tongue. Erik could do without more blood. He was never too fond of it, which is why he liked his Punjab Lasso.

The girl, however, looked at the leather glove distastefully. "You don't really expect me to put this in my mouth? It's sweaty!"

"You've already bit it once, so I would think you wouldn't mind. Besides would you rather have a severed tongue?" Erik thought he made a good point.

She relented and swiftly placed it in her mouth, but not without a cold stare in Erik's direction. He'd been getting a lot of those lately.

Erik still blushed when he had to touch her bare leg (she had a dislike for bunched up stockings, she told him). He got his hands in position to set her leg.

"This might hurt," he said, warning her of what was to come.

"Mo mway," she said, her words muffled by the thick leather glove.

With a quick twist, along with a loud crack, the leg was put back into place, but not without a muffled scream from the girl. He could tell that she bit down very hard on the glove, and her eyes watered a bit, though she tried not to show it.

After she had caught her breath and allowed herself some time to compose herself (after all, she had just had her broken leg set and that's got to hurt), she wanted her revenge.

"Time to set your nose," she said. She still winced when she moved her leg, but she would not allow herself to cry.

Erik pulled away when she moved toward him. He clutched his bruised nose protectively, giving her a look that said, 'stay away!'

"We had a deal," she insisted, staring him down.

Erik seemed unfazed and unmoving.

"You have to take off that mask of yours." She looked at him expectantly. She had been rather curious as to what was underneath it and why it only covered half his face.

He pulled away. "No, not my mask."

She thought he was acting a bit childish. "Come now…" she said waiting for him to relent.

He didn't seem to be showing any signs of giving up. She realized that he was as stubborn as she was.

"Fine." She said. She reached for his nose, but instead of snapping it back into place (though it was tempting) she ripped off his mask, holding it triumphantly out of his reach.

Erik instinctively waited for her to scream out in terror at the sight of him. Nothing came. He was puzzled so he said, "Wait, shouldn't you be screaming and recoiling back in fear?" This was the normal reaction.

The young woman didn't understand this comment. "Why? I've seen worse." She took this opportunity to quickly punch him in the face…again…knocking him flat onto the floor.

Erik was taken completely by surprise since he hadn't expected to suddenly find himself flying over the edge of the bed and flopping onto the floor. He grabbed his nose.

"Ah, my nose! My nose, its…" He felt his nose. "Its…fine." His nose was back to being straight again, although he couldn't say it felt all that great.

Still feeling his nose, making his voice come out sounding a bit clogged, he asked, "So, got a nameb?"

She responded, a little hesitantly, "Angel."

He dropped his hands from his swollen nose. "Is that like a pet name from a…ahem…husband or, uh, boyfriend?" he asked awkwardly.

She found this comment strange. "No. What's your nameb?" she asked, imitating his voice mockingly.

"Erik," he responded.

"Well, Erik, it's nice to meet you," she said, extending a hand.

"You're not going to smack or anything again, are you?" He looked at her hand cautiously.

She shrugged. "Not unless you break up with me or something." She got that same smirk on her face.

Erik was comfuddled by this. "Are we even together?"

**Author's note: LOL, that was funny. R&R.**


	4. Africans and Norwegians

**I find this story so entertaining. Once again I own nothing except for the plot and Angel.**

Angel winced. Erik was wrapping up her leg and even though he was unexpectedly gentle it still hurt. She had a huge gouge where the bone had pierced the skin when her leg broke.

Erik tenderly set her leg on a fluffy pillow. Angel refused to let him bandage her shoulder because now that she was conscious she wasn't about to let him touch her shoulders.

As he went to get some more bandages for her, she contemplated the happenings of the last few hours.

_Should I tell him?_ she thought. _No, I can't do that. That would be bad_. _So…what do I do? Lie? But how long can I keep it up? They're sure to find me_.

Then Erik came back and she came to attention out of her thoughts.

"Oh! Hi!" She smiled a rather fake smile.

Erik looked at her oddly. "Uh, hi. Are you feeling alright?"

She toned down her smile a notch, making it look a little more normal. "Um, yeah, I'm okay. Well, besides the fact that I have a broken leg and a wounded shoulder…but other than that…"

Erik smiled and Angel noticed that he looked rather handsome when he smiled, despite his still swollen nose and half of his face flawed. Of course she pushed the thought immediately from her mind. Imagine, thinking about this strange man like that!

Erik noticed her looking at him with a dreamy look in her eyes.

_Now this is what I'm used to,_ Erik thought. _Should I ask her?_ Yes, now was the time.

"So, tell me about yourself. How'd you get that bullet in your shoulder?" Erik looked at her with questioning blue-green eyes.

This made Angel a little uncomfortable since she had just made up her mind to not tell him anything. This was going to need an elaborate story.

"Well, I was…riding my horse from…" Where was she from? "…Nooooorway."

"You're Norwegian?" asked Erik, surprised. "Well, where's your accent?"

"Uh…I dooon't knooow…laddie…" Angel knew this sounded retarded. "I…uh…loooost it."

Erik raised an eyebrow (the one that was visible) at her, wondering what had gotten into her. "Um…okay…Does that explain the bullet? Do Norwegians normally shoot other Norwegians?"

Angel thought quickly. "Well my horse…fell into the…the river! Yeah, the river."

"The river?"

"Yes the river!" she said, trying to sound indignant. "So…I walked around and I found a cow farm…because there are a lot of cows between here and Norway, you know."

_Yeah, a lot of water too_, thought Erik to himself. This whole story was a bit unbelievable, not to mention confusing.

Angel noticed that Erik still wore a perplexed look, so she continued.

"And I was hungry because my horse had had all of my supplies. So I stole a cow because cows make milk."

"Really? Cows make milk?"

"Yeah! And you can ride them too! They're a bit sluggish but they…"

"You ride them?" Erik seemed a bit astounded by this comment.

"Don't you? They get very good gas mileage!" She was really getting into this story.

Of course, it was a bit outlandish but you never know. She was sure Erik had never been to Norway so how did he know they didn't ride cows?

"So, as I was riding my cow a hunter mistook us for a moose and shot at us, only he hit me…"

"A hunter shot you!" Erik exclaimed.

"Well yes. That does explain the bullet wound, right?"

Erik nodded slowly.

"And the hunter, realizing his mistake shot the cow, trying to hide the evidence. And the cow…" Here she got a little teary-eyed. "The cow didn't…make it!"

She had to admit the look on his face was priceless.

"Really? Come now…"

At this comment she got even tearier and said with a shaky voice, "You mean…you don't… believe me?"

Erik seemed startled at her reaction. "No! Of course…I mean…" He almost laid a hand on her shoulder and then took it away. "Um…I believe you!"

She sniffled. "So, what happened to your…" She motioned toward his face.

Erik blushed a little at this, she noticed.

_Well, since she came up with such a ludicrous story I can come up with a better one_.

"When I was but a small child, I lived in…" He had to think about that one. "Um, Africa."

"Africa?" She sounded impressed.

"Yeah, and in Africa it was a fad in my village to get face peircings." This was going to be good…

Angel looked interested. _He's a very good storyteller even if he is lying…he is lying, right?_

"So I got a few, but they got…infected." Erik said this very dramatically.

Angel's eyes widened.

"Yes, it got infected. So that's why my face got like this…" Erik knew he should probably explain the wig too. "But that's not the end of it!"

"Really?" asked Angel. How could it get any better than African facial peircings?

"I saw the Ghost of…" The ghost of what? _Now what was that ghost's name again?_ "…of Easter…Past…"

"Easter Past? Isn't it Christmas Past? And do they celebrate either in Africa?" Angel found this worse than her story about Norwegian cows and moose hunters.

_Christmas Past! That's what it was! Darn it!_ He turned toward her and plastered an offended look on his face. "They have ghosts for Easter too! Haven't you heart of _An Easter Hymn_? It's just like _A Christmas Carol_ only at Easter time…"

"Oh, no I haven't heard of that…" Angel was amused.

"Well seeing the Ghost of…"

"Of Easter Past," finished Angel.

"Right, seeing the Ghost of Easter Past made my hair turn white because if you saw him you'd understand because he's rather frightening and…I was…scared."

"But your hair is black…" Angel protested.

"Yes but I wear wig now, you know…" Erik would have thought she would've noticed this.

"Oh, well it's a very lovely shade of black, your wig is," she said awkwardly.

She still looked at him skeptically, knowing that that couldn't possibly be true.

He got a hurt look on his face and his lower lip trembled as if he were going to cry. "Doesn't my face explain it? Doesn't this…" He pointed to his face and pulled off his wig for dramatic effect. "…show you that what I say is true?"

Angel didn't know he was going to have such a reaction. She said quickly, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I…"

She was suddenly aware of the playful smirk that was crossing over his face. His lips were upturned in a mischievous grin. This made her painfully conscious of those lips…nice lips… So this made her quickly punch him with her good arm.

He flinched at this and clutched his arm. "Ow! That hurt!"

She had a look that said, 'serves you right!' written all over her face. "Put your wig back on! I like your hair better black!"

He frowned at her and said, "For a little thing you sure push around your weight…"

"Well dynamite comes in small packages!"

**Note: This story cracks me up! It's bound to get more comical and interesting in the next chapters. I will be out of town for the next two weeks, but have no fear! I will update when I can!**

**Disclaimer: We sorry, but please, all you Norwegians out there, do not shoot us! We know that you don't ride cows…do you?**


	5. Cleaning things Up

**Note: This is going to be the last chapter before I leave. I know you're all going to miss me, but try to contain your tears! R&R!**

Angel looked up to see Erik come in with a tray of food in his hands.

"Hungry?" he asked.

She nodded and dug into her food ravenously.

"How was your nap?" he asked. He poured himself a glass of wine.

"Restful except for someone's loud, melancholy playing of the organ." She gave him a look.

"Don't say that about my organ! My organ is my treasure!" He grumbled. _Melancholy!_

They sat there glaring at each other for a while. Finally Erik took a sip of wine, snickering.

"What are you laughing at!" she demanded. She was quite enjoying this hostility between them.

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" he asked, still grinning.

She touched her face and then glowered at him. "Well have you seen your shirt lately?"

Erik looked down at his white shirt that he had just changed (the other one was covered in blood) and saw that some wine had dribbled on it, probably from when he was laughing at Angel's appearance.

He picked up a hand mirror and shoved it at, showing her reflection. Her face was smudged with dirt and blood, her long red hair was a matted mess. She gasped.

"See? The truth hurts!" Erik sneered, still lamenting over his stained shirt. He decided to go change since he was not going to go around with his clothes looking so unkempt.

Once he left, Angel quickly started to rub her face, trying to get the smears of grime off. She noticed that Erik had left her a napkin. She dipped it in the glass of water he had also provided and started to rub her face. Soon, she got all of the dirt off although her hair was still a mess. She hurriedly ran her fingers through the ruby locks, smoothing them out a bit.

At that moment, Erik came back into the room with a clean shirt and carrying some boxes. He looked up and saw her now cleaned up and, out of surprise, dropped the boxes, one of them accidentally landing on his foot. He flinched, not so much out of pain but embarrassment.

"What?" she asked, even more self conscious than before with him staring at her like that!

"Um, nothing…?" Erik stuttered. _Wow! Lucky for me she's pretty!_

Angel looked at the boxes curiously. "What's in those?" she asked.

Erik suddenly came to his senses and looked down at the pile on the floor, momentarily forgetting. "Um…oh! Oh yeah. These are…uh…for you!" He quickly shoved them into her arms, looking away, not wanting her to see his face that was a color scarlet enough to match her hair.

"That's a lovely shade of red you're turning," she said teasingly.

He muttered, "Just open them!"

Angel quickly tore open the boxes. Inside was a lovely emerald green dress, in the latest fashions. All of the other boxes were filled with dresses, all very beautiful, stylish, and probably rather pricey too.

Angel didn't know what to say. No one had ever given her such an extravagant gift. She was rather touched by it.

_Aw, he's so sweet!_ she thought to herself with a smile. She looked up at him, her face glowing.

"Well, I'm, uh, glad you like it," stammered Erik, a little uncomfortably. He started to turn and leave, not knowing what else there was to say.

Angel was a little disappointed to see him go. "Wait! Where are you going?" she asked.

Erik turned around slowly and said, "I'm, uh, going to…sleep…because that's what people do at night." He continued on his way.

_How cute! He's nervous!_ Angel was delighted at this little turn of events.

As she watched him go, she was thinking how gracefully he held himself…

That is until he forgot about one of the boxes lying on the ground. He probably should've watched his step. He tumbled to the ground as a result of tripping over it. He quickly jumped up, his face even redder than before, and walked out. Once he was out of eye sight he seized his nose and silently gasped. Stupid ground! Why did it have to hit his nose?

Angel couldn't help but giggle. _Well, he's still cute…_

**A Special Note To our Reviewers!**

**Gerbear-You wanted an update, here it is.**

**xxXGoddessXofXdeadXloveXxx-Ditto**

**Phantomess785-Heyy Anna! Thanks for your support! Good luck with ur fiction also! **

**Lg-Thank you for the friendly criticism, enjoy.**


	6. Memories

**Marie and Rochelle Note: Sorry it's taken so long to update! School starting and all kind of takes all of our time. Enjoy this chappie! It's dramatic! Dun dun dun!**

Angel looked about her as she ate the breakfast Erik had brought her. She had never been one to eat breakfast but since Erik had been so nice to bring it to her plus being so cute…

_Wait! What am I thinking? Angel, get yourself together!_

For the first time she noticed her surroundings. Apparently Erik had interesting taste, mostly in dark colored fabrics. Can we say morbid?

As she contemplated these things she heard a fluttering noise above her. She jumped, causing her to wince because of her leg.

"Stupid pigeons," she muttered.

"They're not that bad," Erik commented as he walked in with some new bandages.

Angel was about to say something when there was another fluttering sound and a _plop_! Erik looked at the shoulder of his shirt, now oozing with pigeon droppings, sighed, and then said, "I don't even care anymore."

His female companion laughed at this, although Erik didn't find anything funny about it.

_Why is it that I can't keep my cool, reserved appearance around this girl?_ He thought to himself, frustrated.

Angel noticed his aggravated look and couldn't help but giggle. She realized what a great feeling that was. She hadn't laughed in a long time…



Her face burned as the interrogator slapped her again. She felt a trickle of blood coming from the corner of her mouth but she kept her ground, holding his eyes with a defiant stare.

"Mademoiselle, I ask you again, why did you do it?"

Angel once again kept her mouth clamped tight. She was not about to let this man break her. No man would ever break her again.

The man was obviously losing his patience. He grabbed a fistful of her bright red hair and slammed her head against the table. Angel blinked several times before the room came into focus again.

The interrogator looked at her sternly. "What was your motive?" he asked again.

She looked up at him and said, "Tell me, Captain Duvall, what is your reason for doing this?"

He seized her small hand, twisting the fingers in his vice-like grasp. Angel felt the bones crack under the pressure, her face a picture of pain, but no sound escaped her lips. She still held his stare.

He pulled her face close to his and growled, "My reason, Mademoiselle, is that you…"



"Angel?" Erik asked worriedly, seeing her eye brows furrowed, her eyes filled with memory. "What really happened to you?"



"Captain Duvall?"

The police captain rubbed his eyes, still stinging from the dirt that was shoved in them, and turned to the officer. "What?" he growled.

The officer looked a bit intimidated but said, "Sir, we've lost sight of her."

The captain got a wild look in his eyes. "Officer Babineaux, do you know who this woman is? Do you know that she is probably one of the most dangerous criminals in France? And you dare tell me that you have lost sight of her!"

Officer Babineaux cowered at the man's rage.

"FIND HER!"

**End Note: Suffer our first evil cliffy! Haha! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW **

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